


Bad Dancing

by ColorTeal



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Buff Elita, Dancing, F/M, Kissing, Tall Elita, bad dancing, long time no see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3560690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorTeal/pseuds/ColorTeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A party, lights, music, not something you'd normally find Optimus a part of, but his decision to be nearby pays off with finding an old friend returning to Cybertron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Dancing

Dangling lights were strewn about the place, inside and out. Cybertronians of all sorts were taking part in the noisy festival. Some didn’t even know its origin, if created in wartime or picked up on some distant organic world. Optimus found it didn’t matter so much, maybe. People were relaxed and seemingly happy; cons, bots, and neutrals alike. Parties were not quite his thing, but he made the choice to stay nearby.

His night was made when a very, very old ship landed, and a friend of his had been the first to step out.

Elita-1.

She may have changed her armor hundreds of times over the millennia, just as he had himself, but she was all too recognizable.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be the first person I saw when I walked off my ship.” She smiled, hands grabbing Optimus by the shoulders. “Honestly, I didn’t expect anyone. I really thought my scanners were faulty when they said Cybertron was alive.”

“It’s a very long, long story. I’ll fill you in later.” Optimus put one hand on top of Elita’s, head tilted back just enough to make comfortable eye contact. “Right now we’re all celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?” Elita arched a brow. With so much war, there was very little to celebrate.

“I’m not sure, I didn’t plan this.” Optimus turned, more lights were being put up as the sun set and music started to rise. “I don’t know what it is but it’s not a battle, so I am grateful for whatever it is.”

Elita pulled her arms away, pushing them up in a stretch. “Anything is better than a fight or being cooped up in that ship.” After she worked out a creak or two from her joints, Optimus took her hand back, pulling her towards the party.

The music there was loud, loud and something definitely organic but the underlying rhythm was pleasing enough and Optimus quickly found himself swaying to it. Elita, however, grew stiffer, joints freezing up the most in her legs.

“Elita-1, you were always the better dancer.” Optimus held a hand out as he rocked back and forth, one foot to the other and back.

“And you, braver.” Elita crossed her arms. “I don’t know anyone here, O-”

“You know me.” Optimus let his mask retreat, showing a small smile. He stepped forward, grabbing at both of Elita’s hands again and pulling her into a dance to a fast and upbeat tune.

Elita struggled and failed to avoid stepping on Optimus’ feet; His clumsier dancing getting literally underfoot but every misstep only made him laugh. She pulled her hands out of Optimus’ and moved to pick him as the music kicked up in a flurry of something new. Big and pink, she spun on a heel with Optimus hoisted onto her shoulder, now laughing herself.

And when the music stopped, she found herself dropping Optimus a little too carelessly when the song ended, dumping him in a less-than-graceful pile on the floor.

“Oops.” She apologized, one hand covering her mouth and the other extended to pull Optimus up. “I thought you would have landed on your feet.”

“After seeing my bad dancing for that entire song?”

Optimus laughed more. He had laughed more tonight than he had in the last eight hundred years.

Elita recovered from her slight embarrassment. “Let’s dance to another song.” She said, pulling Prime back onto his feet. When the next song came on, he beat her to start dancing again. Hands up, down, up down, one behind his helm as he kicked to the rhythm.

“Four million years and you still have no dancing skills.” Elita swayed and spun in place. “You might actually be worse now than you were way back then.”

“I’m not that bad.” Optimus staggered forward in a poor attempt to slide, arms flailing to counterbalance against a fall.

“You might want to stick to battles, Prime.” Elita laughed, suddenly showing off with a very skillful jump-crouch-rise-stomp-stomp. “You’re actually graceful in that element.” She snickered as Optimus’ attempts at “sick moves” as she heard others refer to dancing when a swing of his arm connected with someone’s chest, resulting in a fast apology.

“This is more fun.” He grinned, sweeping Elita’s hands back into his own, fingers interlaced and they started to try to bounce to the music together. “I would rather do this for the next four million years.”

“What, getting stepped on because you absolutely cannot dance?”

“Yes.”

Another step-back-step, with Optimus getting stepped on again, and on Elita’s mind was the thought of him having dents in his feet before long. She looked down between them to try to avoid kicking him again, but Optimus had decided then to block her view with a kiss.

He pulled away to find Elita’s face looking quite stunned.

“I would do this for the next four million years if it is you.”

“I’m surprised you’re still this sweet.” Elita smiled the biggest smile she had in years and her arms dove under Optimus’, hugging tightly and lifting him high off the ground.

“I am… just as surprised.” Optimus chuckled lowly as Elita kissed his crest before setting him back down, gently this time.

“Well, prepare for four million years of this, then.” She leaned down and cupped Prime’s face to return a proper kiss. 


End file.
